


Yours

by Payson_Blinde



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alpha Evan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Begging, Beta Jonathan, Dom/sub Undertones, First Meetings, First Time, Humiliation, Jonathan is an anxious boy, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive Evan, Public Masturbation, Self Slut Shaming, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car, Soooo much more than Jonathan was expecting, Submissive Jonathan, Wet & Messy, if that's a thing, oversensitization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Payson_Blinde/pseuds/Payson_Blinde
Summary: People say that having sex your fated pair for the first time is a "religious experience". Probably just a euphemism for a good fuck, right?Jonathan learned Evan was his fated pair the moment he saw his face - even if just through a few hundred pixels - but since then, nothing's been the same. There's only one thing he can think to do: he has to go find him.Looks like he's going to a convention semi-nearby. This should be... interesting.





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Perspective is weird because... I guess that's just how I do it, at this point.
> 
> Never written smut so... You know, I think I'll just let you get to it.

 

Jonathan didn't think he'd ever been this nervous in his entire life. He stared at himself in the mirror, thoroughly covered head to toe between the hoodie, cargo pants, baseball cap, combat boots, and short, fingerless gloves. He took a deep breath, shakily releasing it as he futzed with the zipper, unsure just how much of his unassuming grey t-shirt should be showing. He settled to zip it about halfway up, but after strapping on a basically-empty black bag – more for show than anything, really – he impulsively pulled the zipper all the way up to his collarbone. His hands were sweating as he checked for the ticket in his wallet one more time, then took another tireless glance at his phone. His ride would be here any minute. Then he'd be on his way. And then, a few hours later, he'd be... Fuck.

He took a seat in his little kitchen, hands tingling and feet bouncing to a relentless, jittery beat. Mind reeling, he began to wonder if he should call it off. Maybe give the ticket to Luke, make him go instead. Or just tear the thing up. Ever since the first time he'd seen – when he'd realized – his _fated_ – he knew he'd have to face him. It just... It wouldn't be fair to him, knowing and not telling him. People only had one fated partner in the world. Sure, he could fall in love with other people, but it wouldn't... It just wouldn’t compare. And it would be despicable for Jonathan to deny him that.

Since the first time Jonathan saw his face, even if through a screen, _nothing_ felt the same. Everything was... _stronger._ Flowers smelled sweeter. Food tasted richer. Everything, _everything_ around him suddenly took on its own unique brand of beauty and grace. He could hardly take a breath without thinking... _This_ is living. But there was just one thing missing: Evan. Just thinking the name had his heart pounding his ears – as if it wasn't already.

To be honest, Jonathan was never really into alphas. As a beta, he was just as likely to fall in love with any other sub-gender, and he thought for sure he'd end up falling in love with another beta – someone who could pull their weight and wouldn't be too dependent, but would also accept help and support when they needed it. Just hearing Evan's voice, Jonathan was sure he was a beta. But once his appearance and voice were paired, Jonathan knew. It confused him – he didn't exude that same stubborn, steely front he'd always associated with alphas. Evan was different. He didn't always have to be right, he didn't always have to succeed right off the bat. He didn't have to be the best. He just had to do everything he could, and if that wasn't enough, then tomorrow, he would try something different. And Jonathan loved that.

Jonathan knew, if anything, he should be excited. For the first time, he'd finally get to meet his friends face to face. And also... he'd be with Evan. His hands twitched, and he licked his lips, nervous beyond all reason. Seeing Evan was going to be... _insane,_ but that wasn't the only reason Jonathan found himself unable to sit still. There was a good chance that there were going to be some people in that building who knew him – or knew his voice, at least. He'd taken some precautions, trying to cover every feasible inch of skin just in case, taking four Ubers just so he could avoid bringing his license or have someone tracking his plate. Even so, he reminded himself over and over – he could not say a single word that was not _absolutely_ necessary.

Everything was fine. He was going to be fine. He was also going to hurl.

Four hours later, he was standing in a massive crowd of people, keeping his head down and lips glued shut. The buzzing of his phone in his clenched hand nearly made him jump.

It was from Luke. _Give me a call if you need out._

Jonathan gave a small smile. It was nice having a classic alpha as a friend – he always had someone he knew he could depend on. He sent a quick, _Thanks._

“Sir? Ticket?” a young girl behind a sun-bleached fold-out table chirped. He nodded to himself, pulling it from his pocket. She marked him down and smiled. “Have a great time.”

Jonathan shuffled through the crowds and into the building, quickly finding himself a spare corner to calm down. He couldn't stop his shaking. The panel was starting soon – Craig, Tyler, Lui, and Evan would all be there. He grabbed handfuls of his pants in his pockets. He kept trying to remind himself, he's among friends. There's no reason to be nervous. All he had to do was find them after the panel, and... Fuck, and do what? They were probably going to be swarmed afterward. What could he possibly say to them that 1, would convince them to talk to him privately, 2, wouldn't come off as creepy, and 3, wouldn't attract attention from anyone else?

He kept his eyes on the floor, and then the realization hit him: he didn't need to do just about _anything_ – just go up to Evan, let him see his face, and say something. The voice and appearance get paired, and Evan would... He would – well, he'd see. And then surely he'd get to talk to him without everyone around. He swallowed. Him and Evan, together. In a quiet corner of the building, close so no one else can hear… And he thought he was shaky _before…_

Jonathan simultaneously felt lighter than air and nailed to the ground. The possibilities were suffocating – would the others leave? And he would be alone with Evan? And maybe he could... Could he _touch_ Evan? Would Evan... _kiss_ him? Sweat emerging on his brow, Jonathan instinctively went to take off his hat, but quickly caught himself. He tried to shake off the thoughts – aside from it already being hot enough, he really did not need to start giving off pheromones in a room crammed full of people.

Trying desperately to distract himself, he pulled his phone from his pocket, hardly able to play whatever mindless game was currently taking up most of his battery with his trembling thumbs. Despite his pathetic scores, he continued, not daring to look up, but it didn’t take long for his thoughts to find their way back to the elephant in the room.  
What if… What if things got really awkward after this? What if he couldn’t talk to Evan the same way again? They’d get on a call together and then - how could they possibly just go on chatting as if nothing happened? What was _supposed_ to happen? The couple meets against all odds and then… well, then the story stops. Was there some kind of paperwork they had to do? Why hadn’t he asked Luke? Surely he’d know. Maybe he should call him. But what if someone heard? And besides, he was too nervous to even take it off airplane mode, as if that could possibly save his identity if someone were to attempt to track it after _guessing_ that he was Delirious. Maybe… Maybe Evan would know. Or one of the other guys. Oh, shit, should he tell them? That could be awkward, too. Shit.

\---------- 

Perhaps about fifty feet away and behind several walls, Evan stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his jacket uselessly. The small _pop_ of Tyler opening a beer beside him nearly made him jump.

Tyler put a hand on his shoulder. “You ready?” he asked, and took a gulp.

Evan nodded, and looked down at his sleeve as if there was something to fix.

“Nervous?” Tyler asked. It wasn’t difficult to tell.

Evan gave half a smile, knowing it. “Yeah.”

Tyler shrugged. “It’s not like they’re gonna interrogate you or some shit.”

Evan nodded once more, and sat down in a plush black chair. He glanced up at the clock. It’d be any minute now.

Tyler held his beer out to Evan. He stared at it for a moment, then rolled his eyes and grabbed it, taking a few hasty mouthfuls before handing it back, with a mutter of, “Thanks.”

Tyler eased himself into the chair beside Evan with a sigh. “One hour and it’ll be done. Kinda like recording. But easier.” he reasoned.

Evan couldn’t really defy the logic. Just, be natural. The only difference, of course, would be the crowd staring at him, the lights, the pressure to be everything people expected him to be - so really, not much like recording at all. But regardless, it’d all be over in an hour. At least there was that.

“Alright guys, you’re on.”

\---------- 

Jonathan was too wrapped in his thoughts to bother even pretending to play the game on his phone; it’d been stuck on the death screen for the last few minutes, untouched. When he finally glanced up, he realized that he didn’t recognize the backs of the heads of the people around him - there were too many blonds. Where did everyone go? He looked at the time. _Shit._ The panel started ten minutes ago.

He muttered little off-key ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s through the new crowd, finally raking his way to the door. Which… was locked.  
“Can I help ya?” a large, gruff man demanded, crossing his huge arms over his chest.

Jonathan looked up at him, blinking nervously. “I - uh, I’m late,”

The man’s glare deepened. “No kidding, that’s why it’s locked. It’s broadcasting in the big room, go watch it there.”

Jonathan fought the urge to bite his cheek. “Which… room?”

He pointed a stubby index finger down the hall. “Through the double doors.”

Jonathan gave a tiny nod. “Thanks,” he replied meekly.

The man didn’t answer, only staring as Jonathan awkwardly negotiated his way back through the crowds.

Jonathan approached the faded blue doors, his feet feeling heavier with every step. It wasn’t as if Evan was in this room, but still, his hands trembled as he turned the knob. This room was only slightly quieter, other late-comers filing in from all directions, whining about the doors being locked or getting the wrong time. Jonathan tried not to chew the blood out of his cheek as he sat down in front of the screen, where a wide-pan shot of the audience was streamed.

Jonathan was restless in his seat, alternating between propping his knee and jittering his feet and holding his chin, watching with an unmoving gaze as the camera crept, tantalizingly slow, through the rows and rows red seats, gradually filling with people. Rows one through five… two through six… three through seven… The whole scene seemed to be in slow motion, a tease that seemed to last a week. Six through ten… Seven through eleven… And then, _oh so slowly,_ it found the end of the rows, and then… _There he was._

A electric shock zapped through Jonathan’s entire body - his feet jumped, hands twitched, eyes fluttered, mouth tensed, his vision went blurry at the corners, and out of the eight faces on screen, he could only see one. _Evan._

There was speaking. His friends were there - Craig, Lui, Tyler - but his attention couldn’t be budged. Suddenly every thought in his mind was screaming, _why aren’t you in that room?!_ His knuckles were white, clamped to the seat to keep him from jumping up and sprinting back to those doors, prepared to shout and punch and claw his way past the guard just to get closer. His mind turned against him, relentlessly demanding he do something. He needed to go. He needed to be there, near him, touching him, _engulfing_ him. He had to. It wasn’t an option - it was the only way he could keep his heart beating.

Jonathan immediately shot up and made a beeline for the bathroom. He sat in a stall, his hair tight in his fists, focusing every neuron he could still command on the task of breathing. He had to calm down. His dick was swollen and twitching in his pants, slick oozing steadily from his asshole and making a sticky mess in his boxers. Fuck, he was hypersensitive - the slightest shift of his hips rubbed his jeans against his cock, his ass - he needed relief so fucking bad. But there was no way he was going to jack off in a public toilet. He could push past this. He could pull himself together - he was a grown-ass man for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t in junior high. Surely he was better than that.

He suddenly become excruciatingly aware that he was _boiling._ Jonathan immediately began shedding layers, throwing off his hat, jacket, shirt, shoes, and socks as if they were on fire. He took his shirt and wiped the sweat from his forehead, neck, and chest. He felt ridiculous, going red at the ears as he found himself desperate as a whore, sitting on the toilet surrounded by his dirty clothes, watching white droplets of precome gather on his tip.

God. He had to touch it. He needed to. His hole ached, demanding to be filled, his dick was so fucking hard. But people were chatting and clamoring just outside. Someone could come in.

Jonathan stayed there, trying to relax and keep his thoughts on anything but _him_ \- settling to focus instead on what he should have for dinner. A dinner he would _not_ be having with him, that would _not_ be followed by driving to a hotel and feasting on the hot, irresistible pleasure of just his _presence_ \- shit.

Oh, god. Evan. Just thinking his name sent his hole dribbling over the toilet seat, until he was sitting in a hot pool of his own slick, his eyes squeezed shut as he begged the ceiling to tell him what to do. One thing was for sure: he needed something in him.

His fingers were tentative and quivering. He’d fingered himself before, so many times since he’d first seen Evan’s face. God - calling him, hearing his voice, speaking to him alone - it was weeks before Jonathan could play with him again. When he first tried, he had his hands down his pants within minutes, switching to push-to-talk to hide his pitiful moans as he slowly delved his fingers deeper and deeper inside, prodding his walls and drenching his jeans in slick, imagining it was Evan’s touch. He’d had to scrub the leather of his chair clean of it afterward, and tell everyone he was sick until he could get a handle on himself.

Jonathan took a sharp inhale as he touched his twitching, wet rim. He pressed his fingertip just inside, drawing a slow circle across the soft flesh, plunging in just the slightest bit, teasing himself until he felt tears in his eyes. His resolve crumbling, desperate and shaking with nothing more to lose, he gave himself another finger. He thrust them in, and out, slowly, telling himself he could get by on just this, even as his hole was sending him shocks of pleasure and promising so, so much more if only he gave in, succumb to the demands of his desperate body.

Without even realizing, Jonathan had slipped in a third finger. He couldn't help himself, his measly self-control was brushed off like a fly on the shoulder of raw, primal instinct, and with all the force he could muster he fucked himself hard and fast. Hiking his legs up on the stall, he realized with a gasp – but no lapse in pace – that any passerby could glance through the crack of the stall door and see everything, see his flailing dick flicking precome in his face, see the spray of slick off his rim and his dripping down his wrist, see his legs spread and ready to be taken. God, he wanted someone to walk in. He wanted someone to see, to tear the door down and unzip their fly and nail him against the toilet like a slut. He wanted an alpha. He wanted _Evan._ And with that thought he cried out like a pup, and shot ropes of come across his chest, tasting some on his lip as he struggled to catch his breath. And for a moment, he laid limp and spent, a shameless slave to pleasure in a public restroom.

\----------

Pre-stage jitters had Evan sweating at the brow, futzing with his hands and feeling slightly weightless, trying to remind himself that no matter what happened, in a few hours, it would all be over and done with. He’d almost convinced himself to calm down when he walked on stage, when suddenly, something changed. He couldn’t tell if it was just the nerves kicking in again once he saw the crowd, but immediately, something changed in Evan, and his very first thought was, ‘I need to go. Now.’

He couldn’t explain it. His legs tingled, his feet were restless. He didn’t know why he just knew he had to _run._ He imagined himself over and over sprinting down the stairs, through the crowds, and bursting through the door - he had to consciously force his feet to take him to his chair rather than dragging him off the stage. But it was so impossibly difficult - it was like trying not to flinch as you watch yourself get slapped in the face, stretched out over the six seconds it took Evan to wrangle himself into the seat. It was as if it were essential for the good of all humanity that he fucking _go._ But he didn’t know where.

\----------

Jonathan had no idea how long he’d been sitting here, plastic toilet lid on his bare thighs, forehead in his palms, clothes splayed across the floor. Trying to talk himself into leaving.

He reached for his jeans, grabbing his phone from the pocket. Holy _shit._ He’d been here for… _fifty-three minutes?_ And it took that long just to be able to distinguish between heartbeats? His hands shook - he’d have to leave eventually. He couldn’t just stay here. Besides being ridiculous, he’d pass up the chance to talk to E- He bit his cheek. He could feel his dick beginning to stir again.

He ran a hand through his hair, taking deep breaths. It would only be this bad for a few hours. All he had to do was let Evan pair his face and voice, and then, just wait it out. He nodded to himself, and rubbed his hands together furiously. He could do this.

He tugged his clothes back on, and made his way out of the bathroom. Already, people were draining out of the room as the panel changed presenters. The guys would have their signing now. Jonathan thought for a second. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to approach him then, just in case… Well, he wasn’t sure what Evan was going to do. He wasn’t sure what _he_ was going to do - if he could even get that close to him without melting to his knees… He didn’t want to go back to the bathroom, but he had to find somewhere private - he might’ve been blind to his scent, but the weird looks people paid each other as he hobbled by reminded him that they weren’t.

Jonathan found a way out of the building and into the smoking area, which was blissfully deserted. He took a seat on a planter and took another look at his phone. The signing would only last about fifteen minutes. Then, he just had to… find him.

\----------

Evan could barely focus. Part of his mind ran the automated flashing smiles and scrawling hand, but the vast majority was in an absolute panic. He didn’t know why, but he shouldn’t be here, sitting still, trying to make brief, feeble conversation with the people who brought in notebooks, shirts, and posters to sign. Small talk was never really his expertise anyway, but it was nigh on impossible when his legs wouldn’t settle for the life of him and the quietest crack of a soda can was enough to scare his pen into flinching across his signature.

Things were beginning to slow down, and the session was about over. Tyler glanced over at him.  
“I’m gonna find the bathroom. Wanna get lunch after?” he asked, standing.

Evan nodded, taking a sip of water.

Tyler clapped his hand on Evan’s shoulder as he shimmied past. “Maybe get some fresh air.”

\----------

Jonathan leaned against the building, eyes closed, fully conscious of his breathing, grateful to take in the cool breeze instead of the stuffy murkiness that was indoors. When he finally felt settled, he reached for his phone in his pocket. The panel ended about ten minutes ago - the signing wouldn’t be over just yet. He opened his game once more and started another bout of distraction.

Footsteps approached. Jonathan gave a small, annoyed huff; he had to be careful if he wasn’t going to give off pheromones in front of people. With his next in-game death, he glanced up to find - _holy fuck._

His knees buckled. His hand flew to the wall to keep him upright. His blood was pounding in his ears - at least, the small portion that wasn’t making a beeline for his dick.

Evan. He was so close. Just there. Standing there. Hands in his pockets, looking so… _goddamn beautiful._

He was dumping pheromones. He knew it, because Evan turned slowly to look at him, and there was something straight up _predatory_ in his eyes. Jonathan couldn’t move. His vision was blurry, but he could make out perfectly every agonising detail of Evan - his hair, lips, chest. He felt his lips quivering, and he covered his mouth with his hand, afraid to speak, knowing it’d come out as a melting, unintelligible mess.

Evan was approaching him. Head low, eyes dark and narrow. And he didn’t stop approaching. He backed Jonathan against the wall, pinning him, his breathing ragged, lips only inches from Jonathan, and his voice couldn’t be described as anything but a _growl._

“Who are you?”

Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. His mind wouldn’t stop reeling. He was here. In front of him. So close. His scent - god, he was going to die - it was so fucking good. And _strong._ It filled Jonathan’s head and made him dizzy and he was going to go _mad_ if he didn’t touch-

“I’ve smelled heat. This…” Evan leaned into Jonathan’s hair, and Jonathan could feel him against his temple, taking a long inhale just by his ear, and his neck just about gave out to open himself to Evan. “This isn’t the same. You’re mine, aren’t you?” Jonathan only barely managed a loopy, heavy nod. Evan whispered into his ear, “Say something.”

Jonathan needed more. He couldn’t stop his hands and he reached to Evan, to his chest, his shoulders, his cheek - touching him, his skin, his hair, it was electric, too hot and too cold and simply _perfect._ But it wasn’t enough. His cock _raged_ in his pants and he’d never felt so empty and so _ready._ He was going to go insane. He took Evan’s face in his hands, leaning his forehead on Evan’s as he whimpered, “Evan, please,”

He barely finished the words before Evan’s lips instantly crashed into his his, hands on his hips pulling him flush against Evan’s body. Evan was burning up and Jonathan could feel his dick on his thigh and he _needed_ it, in his hands, his mouth, his ass, _pounding_ him, filling him, fucking him stupid until the only word left on his tongue was _Evan._

Jonathan reached his hand between them for his cock, the Holy Grail, when Evan suddenly leaned down and swept Jonathan up into his arms. Jonathan squeaked, clinging to Evan’s neck.

Evan’s voice was low, husky - hardly even human. “Car.” And he held Jonathan tight in his arms and positively _booked it_ across the road and into the parking lot, immediately finding and unlocking his car.

Evan captured Jonathan in a deep kiss as he slowly set him down, hands in his hair pulling him ever closer until he suddenly pulled back, licking his lips as he looked over Jonathan’s every feature.  
“Get in the back.” he ordered, eyes unbudging from Jonathan’s. Jonathan melted under his gaze for just another moment before turning to crawl into the backseat of Evan’s car. Evan promptly followed, shutting the door and immediately reaching to throw away Jonathan’s hat, beginning to pull up his shirt.

“Want to see you. All of you.” Evan muttered, breath hot and controlled only by threads.

Jonathan never stripped so fast in his life, flicking his shirt into the front seat and shuffling out of his jeans like his life depended on it because it _did._ Evan’s hungry eyes immediately found his insufferable erection, but Jonathan froze in his tracks when Evan suddenly took his face in warm hands, paralyzed under his touch. Jonathan was torn, wanting to melt, just be clay under Evan’s hands, but his throbbing dick was begging to wrap his legs around Evan and throw himself on his cock.

Jonathan lay all but writhing across the back seat, whimpering but speechless as Evan ran his fingertips up Jonathan’s thighs and across his chest, neglecting his twitching, leaking cock where it lay in mess in his boxers, slow and tantalizing, like he intended to spend all day laying his eyes over every inch of his body. His touch left a trail of light, fleeting pleasure over Jonathan’s skin. It was the mystical, indescribable magic of the fated pair, the crashing attraction that bound their spirits and made every touch pure ecstasy - and Jonathan was gasping for more.

“What’s your name?” Evan’s voice was smooth and low, sending shivers through Jonathan’s bones.

Jonathan grasped his gentle hand, desperate. He just couldn’t wait, not for another second. “Jonathan,” he answered, his voice uncontrollably sultry, dipped in lust and dashed with quivering anticipation. He took Evan’s finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue over his skin - _fuck_ he was delicious. He pulled it out through sealed lips, the taste of sweet and salt filling his mouth as he breathed, “And Delirious,”

In Evan’s eyes was outright danger, a devilish smile flashing pearly white canines. And Jonathan wanted nothing but to submit, to be _claimed_ by the beast.

Jonathan didn’t even feel Evan slip his boxers out from under him, only hearing the snap of them being exiled to the front seat before Evan’s hand made a beeline to Jonathan’s dick, and a shot of electricity had Jonathan’s mind wiped clean of everything but the warm palm around his cock.

“E-Ev… Ev-” he tried to beg, his lips quivering beyond use. Evan watched him with a wide grin as he began pumping his dick, running his thumb over the slit, watching Jonathan’s eyes flash open with a stifled cry as he tried to fuck up into his fist.

There were tears in Jonathan’s eyes as he found the words, “P… Please, please!” he sobbed, reaching for Evan’s hair.

Evan watched Jonathan’s face for just another moment: flushed completely red, panting and whimpering on the leather seat of his car, dick leaking like a broken faucet and hands curled into his hair. Just where he was always meant to be. And Evan dipped his head down and took Jonathan’s dick into his mouth, worshipping it slowly with his tongue and breathing in his candy-sweet, fucking _irresistible scent._

Jonathan’s hand flew to his mouth, eyes scrunched closed as he tried to swallow his voice. Cracking his eyes open, he saw Evan’s face below him, mouth closed around his cock, with the eyes of the insatiable wolf devouring the lamb.

Evan ran his hand up the inside of Jonathan’s thigh, pausing to fondle balls for a moment before proceeding to his asshole, already dripping with slick. Gradually work his fingers in, he felt Jonathan’s body begin to twitch, his breaths quickening and hands tightening in his hair. Evan took the opportunity to lavish Jonathan’s cock, hallowing his cheeks and pulling in every last millimeter of dick he possibly could. Evan’s fingers made their first brush of Jonathan’s prostate, his eyes flashing open and mouth wide in a choked cry. Jonathan’s gasps were music to Evan’s ears as he pinpointed his sweet spot.

“Fu- Oh god, fucking - _christ!”_ Jonathan had just enough time to glance down at the gleaming eyes of his - _his_ alpha, before he fucking _nailed_ his prostate, rubbing and bobbing his head on his dick. Evan bathed in his pleasure-wracked scream, until he had Jonathan absolutely _gushing_ with slick. His head was thrown back, damn near sobbing as he drowned in the crashing, relentless waves of pleasure, like an ocean tide that dragged him under, engulfing every inch of him, blinding him with hot, dripping euphoria, asking why he ever wanted air.

Evan unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his thighs. Holding Jonathan firmly at the hips, he drew the tip of his dick in circles around Jonathan’s hole, coating it in the slick that streamed ceaselessly from his puckered rim, splattered and shining across his thighs like the masterpiece of a careless artist. Jonathan’s eyes opened, blue and pleading, his legs shaking as he tried desperately both to push himself down on the thick, irresistible cock prodding his hole, and to remain still for his alpha, though every cell of his being was aching to be _fucked._

Evan leaned over him, kissing his neck, to his ear, dipping his tip into his wet heat. He wanted so badly to plunge into him and _take_ \- but first, he wanted to hear him say something.

“You belong to me. All of you,” he murmured into Jonathan’s ear, brushing his hand down his chest, circling the tip Jonathan’s cock with his fingertip just to hear him gasp, “is mine. You understand that?” and Jonathan gave a vigorous nod.

“Yes. Yes. I’m yours. I’m all yours.” he sputtered, like a confession, trying so hard to keep still but fuck, his cock was pressing just the tiniest bit further in and he knew in just a second he would _burst._

“Fuck, you’re so wet…” Evan breathed, dark as sin. “I’ll take good care of you, my beautiful.” And he threw his hips into Jonathan.

And the world was _white._ It was like the wind was knocked out of Jonathan’s lungs but he had no need to breathe. It was like Evan was on _fire_ but his skin had never known pain. Grasping desperately at each other, their only anchor to reality, but every touch whisked them further into oblivion. Lost, drowning, safe, soaring - all in this moment.

Blindly, mindlessly, Evan’s only thought was to move, to get friction, to _fuck._ Jonathan was his and he was going to prove it. Gripping his soft hips, Evan pounded into Jonathan’s tight, slick hole, plunging Jonathan into screaming ecstasy, hands flailing for something to grab onto. Evan’s pace was relentless, shifting his angle until Jonathan suddenly choked on his voice, his mouth gaping and eyes squeezed shut.

But Evan didn’t back down, crushing Delirious’s prostate with every thrust. He could feel him tensing, his legs locked tight behind his back, his hands reaching up for him. Evan grinned like a madman, high on the crashing waves of warmth, on the way Delirious’s skin tingled and sparked and ignited against his, on the way he would never, _ever_ be without him again.

“Say my name,” Evan growled, and he’d barely uttered the words before Jonathan found the chords to _scream_ it for him.

_“Evan!_ Evan, please, please!” he sobbed.

“What do you want, beautiful? Tell me.” he ordered sweetly between breaths.

“Please, please - hold me,” Jonathan begged, and in a flash, Evan leaned down to scoop him into his arms. Like magnets, Jonathan’s arms wrapped around Evan’s neck, while his broad hands moved back down to Jonathan’s ass, bouncing him deliciously on Evan’s dick. Jonathan’s cock drooled uselessly between them, the flesh of their bodies rubbing it hard, the pressure smooth and tight, slathering them with precome with every thrust.

In moments Jonathan’s hole clenched around Evan’s dick, his arms tight around him, his head buried in Evan’s cheek. His mind had gone to mush and his only thought was to-

“Cum for me.” Evan commanded, and his words worked over Jonathan’s every nerve like a spell - a spell that breathed white hot fire into every fiber of his body, that sent his limbs shaking and mouth gaping, run dry of sound but still aching to scream. For a moment his eyes fell back in his head and he could’ve sworn this was the end for him, but his every cell was so _alive,_ millions of years of evolution coming together to cry out, _Yes. More._ Evan’s dick still pounded into him, and even as Jonathan splashed cum over their skin, Evan’s hand descended to squeeze the oversensitised flesh, milking his cock for every last drop as Jonathan gave broken sobs of insatiable pleasure.

Evan’s grin was unceasing, feasting on his lover’s spasms and whimpers. This was _his_ prize. No one else would ever see this gorgeous man fallen to pieces like this. He reached one hand up to his hair, and pulled his head to the side to sink his teeth into his neck. With a final thrust, Evan gave a shuddering groan and released his cum deep inside of Jonathan.

Finally, Jonathan was filled. He held tight to Evan’s neck, feeling the warm cum inside of him make its way into every inch of his ass, coating his walls and flowing deeper and deeper. He clenched around Evan’s dick as if to keep it there. He wanted to always be like this, to feel the heat of his alpha against his skin, to be filled with his cock, his cum, to carry his essence inside of him always. Like a collar - or a brand, burned into him by the fire of this moment.

Evan and Jonathan stayed like this, breathing slowly calming, resting in each others arms and smiling like idiots, both wondering how they managed to wander the world and stumble into so much happiness.


End file.
